I’m trying not to dream of a white, milky, sticky Christmas

December 28, 2011

“I’ve got a Christmas question,” says Anonymous Doug.

“I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask,” I say. “I’m an atheist. For me, Christmas is just shorthand for ‘Winter Day Where I’m Obligated to Buy Presents and Attend Family Dinners and in Exchange I Also Receive Gifts.’ And I don’t have a family because I was born in a lab and if anyone tells you differently they are a fucking liar cuntface.”

“Actually, that might make you the perfect person to ask,” says Anonymous Doug.

“All right, what do you want to know?” I say.

“Is it okay to jerk off on Christmas?” says Anonymous Doug.

*blink* *blink*

“You mean jerking off during the day of Christmas,” I say. “Not jerking off onto Christmas itself, like some sort of holiday bukkake.”

“During the day of, right,” says Anonymous Doug. “I mean, it was late Christmas morning, I’m done unwrapping the presents I bought myself with other people’s money because they wouldn’t remember to get me anything, and I wasn’t supposed to go to dinner at my sister Pseudonymous Liz’s place for another couple hours so I figure – hey – I’ve got some time to kill. And my best time-waster is a little trip around the porn sites. Especially the ones on Tumblr because they’re free.”

“Pretentious pictures and free porn, that’s Tumblr all right,” I say.

“But as I open up my laptop and my bathrobe, I get this odd notion in the back of my head,” says Anonymous Doug. “It’s little voice saying ‘You can’t masturbate on Christmas.” And I asked it why not and all it says ‘Because it’s Christmas.’ Like Jesus’s birth means you’re not allowed that day to crank one out to girls in leather tying up other girls in leather. Where does it say that?”

“I’m questioning what that little voice you have actually is,” I say. “It’s obviously not your conscience or a sense of tact trying to communicate with you because you don’t have either of those things.”

“It’s probably the part of me that’s still into traditions and shit,” says Anonymous Doug. “And Christmas was a big deal in my house growing up… except for when no one would remember to buy me presents. But other than that, it was a magical day.”

“And that’s coming into conflict with your current desire to spank the monkey before heading out for Christmas Day,” I say. “So you’re trying to resolve your past enjoyment of Christmas with your current enjoyment of polishing your javelin.”

“I say if you want to choke the chicken on Christmas, you shouldn’t feel guilty about it,” I say. “People have sex on Christmas. I know they do. That’s how we get people with late September birthdays. And I’m sure those people don’t feel guilty about getting some fuck action on Christmas. So why should you feel guilty about shaking hands with the governor of love on December 25th? Why aren’t you feeling bad for rubbing out some knuckle children during Hannukah, or Ramadan, or Lent?”

“I’ve jerked the gherkin on Easter before,” says Anonymous Doug. “That’s usually because I never know when Easter is. Damn liturgical calendar always changing the day. But even after learning that, I didn’t feel bad about it.”

“Calendars should not dictate when you should or shouldn’t sling some crotch custard around,” I say. “But please, don’t do it at your sister’s house during your Christmas visit. That would be inappropriate on a number of levels.”

“But is it all right to crank one out in your sister’s bathroom when it’s not Christmas?” says Anonymous Doug. “Because I’ve done that before on a couple visits.”

“What were the nature of those visits?” I say.

“Funerals,” says Anonymous Doug, who notices that I’m not as accepting of his whacking off in this instance. “What? They were boring. I needed something to hold my interest during the course of a long day of burying a family member.”

I can’t be sure, but I don’t believe I’ve ever allowed Anonymous Doug to use my bathroom. Now I know why.